A Time of Reckoning: Seven Days in Sunny June, Book IV

by Shinzakura


August 7, PM: By What You Live By

Sitting in the treeline across the highway from where the SIRENs hideout was, Blackthorn looked through the scope and took observation of where those wannabe soldier splittails walked. By the end of the day, there’d be a whole lot of corpses with bullet holes in them, and he’d be on the way to Belize with new entertainment. He could almost taste her thighs, that’s how much he knew victory was at hand.

“Argo Two, this is Argo Six,” he spoke softly into his radio. “How’s the view?”

“I got thermals on their forwardmost guard,” Argo Two responded. “Oh, and she’s warm, just the way I like ’em. We tranq her ass, can I have her?”

“Sure, why the hell not?” Blackthorn chuckled into the speaker. “In fact, everyone on this channel, if you can take one alive, you just got yourselves a new girlfriend. Fuck what Changeling says; so long as we kill the major players he’s not going to give a damn if we take some low-ranked poontang.” He moved his eyes away, looking at the steady curtain of gray rain pelting the road ahead and the thundering drumbeat of noise the rainfall left as it splattered everywhere. He was soaked to the bone sitting out here, waiting for dark, but it would all be worth it in the end.

That changed a few minutes later as bright lights lit up the relative gloominess of the distance. A few seconds after that, the heavy thrum of a car sounded, soon revealed to be a Canterlot Police Department cruiser. Though technically this part of the road belonged in the jurisdiction of the Equestria County Sheriff’s Department, the line between Canterlot and Equestria County was close enough that both CPD and ECSD kept tabs on this area.

“Argo Six, Argo Three,” cracked the radio. “We’ve got a problem inbound – CPD cruiser. Advise as to action, over.”

“Set up the smokescreen, see if you can scare him off,” Blackthorn ordered.

“And if we can’t?”

Blackthorn gave an evil grimace. “You know what to do.”

As her headlights lit up the ECSD van and the roadblock, Melati Jasmine slowed her cruiser down and spoke into her radio. “Dispatch, 6-India-1 here.”

Static briefly uttered from the radio speaker, followed by a tinny voice: “This is Dispatch, go ahead 6-India-1.”

“I’m on Old Horsetail Road. There’s an ECSD roadblock here. Know anything about it?”

“Nothing we were informed of – there were reports of flooding out there, but that was a few hours ago. I’ll get on the pipeline with ECSD Dispatch and see what we’ve got, over.”

“Roger that; I’ll go have a talk with them and see what’s going on. 6-India-1, out.” Melati pulled up to the block and stepped out of the car. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

The first man, tall dark and seemed to wear the ECSD uniform like he was born in it, gave her a rough smile. “Evening, officer.” His partner didn’t say a word and merely nodded.

“So, what’s with the roadblock? Our Dispatch doesn’t have anything on it.”

The deputy shook his head. “Figures. Hey, Ironsights, pop in the van and call Dispatch, see what the fuck’s going on?”

Ironsights nodded his head. “Yeah, sure thing, Sarge,” he said, popping into the van.

“Sarge” shrugged, the rain using his arms as new points to start micro waterfalls from. “Sorry about that. I’d call them myself, but my ex is working Dispatch tonight and I really don’t want to deal with that, you know?”

“Yeah,” Melati said, relaxing a little. “I can understand. So what’s up?”

He pointed back there. “Rock Creek Bridge is partially washed out; the section overpassing both the creek and the Sacramento River’s highly unstable,” Sarge told her. “CALTRANS station called us to barricade the area since we’re the closest to the scene.”

She blinked. “Wait, isn’t the bridge a half-mile down the way?”

“Yeah, but I guess they want to give people enough of a warning. Hey, I just follow orders; I don’t question them.”

“What about the other side?”

“Heard some Sunnytown PD folks are covering that end,” he told her. “Personally, I’d be surprised if you hear about that end; you know how bad their Dispatch is.”

Melati nodded; the Sunnytown Police Department’s own dispatchers were notorious for giving wrong or false information – and worse, it was clearly an institutional problem, given that enough people had been fired over the years and the issue had still not gone away. It was so bad, she’d heard rumors that the Sunnytown city council was considering shutting down their dispatch and contracting out to CPD or ECSD.

“Yeah, well, look on the bright side: you get to go be dry in your cruiser. My partner and I have to stand here and get waterlogged until someone from CALTRANS gets their ass out here, and I’m sure that’s going to be a while.”

Sure that the guys were on the up and up and that the bridge washout was likely true, she gave them a quick, friendly wave, and went back to the cruiser. She’d opened the door right as her radio went off. “6-India-1, this is Dispatch. ECSD states that they have no, repeat, no assets in the area. ECSD assets are now enroute to assist you, and we’ve informed them that they’re armed and dangerous.”

“Roger that,” Melati said as she began to turn away from her cruiser—

—then felt the sudden ripping shock as a round passed through her, bullet-proof vest notwithstanding. She spun and crashed to the ground, feeling the rain splattering her face as she tried to get up but felt completely numb. As she tried to move she suddenly heard the splashy, squishy footsteps of someone approaching her. She looked up and saw Sarge standing there, reaching for a shoulder harness.

“You know, shame you had to be so damn nosy,” he told her in a matter-of-fact voice. “If you’d tried to drive off, we woulda just left you alone. But then you had to turn, and that spelled trouble. Well, can’t have that.” He pulled out of his jacket what looked to be a Mateba .454. “For a moment, I wondered if I could get you – you got a pretty face, and I’m sure since you’re a cop, you have a body that matches. But…boss says that you’d be too high-profile to take with us. Sorry, but just bad luck, you know?” He aimed the gun right at her face. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Taking no chances and knowing her life was on the line, she lashed towards her hip for her service pistol, pulling it out to aim.

There was a flash of lightning, and a split-second later the ominous boom of thunder, as well as the flash of a muzzle and the bark of a round going off.

A thundering peal of lightning outside, and two people climaxed.

Cantata rolled off Divine. “You’re getting better at this,” she told him in a breathy voice as she collapsed on the bed next to him.

He smirked. “Of course – I’m a prince. I studied swordsmanship, my dear, and a swordsman must always know when to parry and thrust.” He sat up and looked at the clock in their room. “Hrm. It seems that if plans go apace, the eye of the hurricane should be on the summit of Mount Shasta in a few hours. From there, we’ll use the bell to absorb its power, and then once the hurricane goes away, everyone can be speechless, in shock and that should give us the remainder of the week to complete our plans.”

“Good. I have three teams disposing of the last of the problems now.” She grinned wolfishly. “That idiot Changeling never realized that his handler is one of our deep cover agents, and she’ll be going into hiding now. I hope you don’t mind – I took the liberty of giving her a new identity and the, shall we say, ‘ownership’ of your vacation cottage in Noumea.”

“If it removes the sole thorn in our side, I’ll personally give her all my lands in New Caledonia with my utmost gratitude.”

She got off the bed. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, dear, I must go tend to the injection of my troops – they think that it’s just routine battery of inoculations given all the places we go in the world. As soon as that’s done, we’ll train them on their new abilities – I might just have to promote Petty Officer Rush and her partners in order to train the whole of them. I’ll give it some consideration.”

“Anything else I should be aware of?” he asked her.

“Not that I can think of,” she said just before a chirp started on the laptop over on the desk. “Hold on, I might have something.” She sat down at the desk and looked at the alert. “Hrm. Looks like one of my senior officers isn’t as loyal as I thought. Guess I’ll have to do some pruning.” A sad look then crossed her face as she admitted, “A shame, too – Rhapi and I have been together since we were children. This won’t be easy.”

“Sometimes the path to power leads one to make strong, final decisions that would be unsavory to mere commons,” he told her. “I cared about my cousins – but they were in the way of my power and so I had to deal with them. It’s an unsavory business, but if you truly wish to ascend the pinnacle of perfection, then you have no choice.”

She nodded. After all, she’d already ended the lives of people she cared about, not just members of the Sisterhood, but SIRENs actually close to her.

But if this leads me to the throne of eternity, then let one more body fall.

Looking out the window of their new hotel room, Sonata watched the rain fall. It had been hard enough getting a new hotel; many people had evacuated Canterlot for other cities and so they were lucky to be able to trade up for a place farther down south, closer to Sacramento yet still close enough that they could rush back to Canterlot as soon as could be. Even still, they knew they were being tracked by Sonatina Crush, so they still stood in a very tense readiness situation.

So, to pass the time, Sonata watched the weather. Right now, it was a comfort to her; truth be told, it always had been. Maybe in another life she was a dolphin, or a seal or some sort of happy aquatic thing, swimming in the ocean and not worrying about a single thing, just singing a song. Maybe if things had gone right in this life, she’d live a simple existence now, entertained by rain and smiles and tacos, her favorite food. After all, miles to the north and in Canterlot, that’s what her friends led – normal lives with easy pleasures and nothing more difficult than the daily rituals of being young, urban girls growing up and striving for the future. Certainly not the hellish existence she and her sisters had led. Regardless, they’d do this together, just as triplets were meant to.

Still didn’t mean that she liked any of it, though.


There was the chirp of a door key, followed a second later by Aria coming through the door. She wore a wig that obscured her military-short hairstyle, and was carrying herself more like Rarity as to seem like a different person. “So, darlings,” she announced, setting the bags on the table, “I have prepared a repast for us, courtesy of Le Roi du Burgers from the far-off land of across the street, as it were.”

“Ari, knock it off,” Adagio, not taking her eyes from the television, said.

“But, Adagio, darling, it—”

“Aria, she is one of our closest friends and she deserves to be treated better than that,” the eldest sister snarled, “so knock it the fuck off.”

“Ease up, sis, okay? Rarity means a lot to me, too – they all do. So calm the hell down!” Aria retorted.

Adagio finally looked at her sister and then back to the TV. “Sorry,” was all she said.

Sonata went over and hugged her older sister. “It’s okay, Ari,” she murmured. “I miss them, too. We all do.”

“Well, we’re not going to ever see them again until we get out of this alive,” Adagio said, continuing to watch whatever was on the television. “And that’s even assuming that we’ll be able to….” She then turned to look at her sisters. “Or even if they’ll ever want to see us again.”

“What, are you crazy? They’re our friends!” Aria shouted. “Why wouldn’t they want to see us? Sure, they’ll probably be a little mad at us for just disapp—”

“Because we’re killers, Ari,” Adagio interjected. “Sooner or later, they’re going to find that out and….” She sighed, then continued in a soft voice: “Even if we want to live a different life – can live a different life – the blood won’t wash off our hands. We’ll never see the world as they do, no matter how much we want to.”

“So there’s no hope for us?” Sonata asked.

Adagio got up from her seat and went over to hug her sisters. “We’re together. So long as we have each other, there’s always hope.”

Sitting in a rented car in an empty parking lot across the street from the hotel, Sonatina Crush looked at her tablet – or rather, the infrared feed the drone was feeding to said tablet. “Found you bitches,” she hissed with a malicious grin. Reaching over to the passenger’s seat, she grabbed one of the burner phones she’d procured for the mission. Flipping it open, she quickly tapped a cryptic text to a prearranged phone number: Heya! Found that pizza place you were raving about. Going to swing by later and get me some slices. I’ll let you know how they taste. Bye! Once the text was sent, she bent the phone back until it snapped, then slipped it into a box of phones she’d throw away later.

Stepping out of the car, she reached into her pants pocket for a small flickblade she’d disguised as a handyman’s tool. Looking at the darkening sky, she knew that it was only going to be a matter of hours until darkness came and with that, the cloud cover would make for a decent moonless night. Perfect for infiltrating that flea-bitten hotel and if she played her cards right, she could get rid of Dusk and her sisters with a minimum of fuss. That would give her even more time to play: arrange the scene as a lovers’ spat gone wrong, and given that Dusk and her sisters were actual sisters the scandal would be focused on and that would put her in the clear.

She smiled; soon, she’d hit that bitch Dusk, and just about time, too: nobody made her look second place – nobody. The little cunt thought she was a freak because she knew how to use knives effectively? And had the nerve to joke about how “Sonatina” was just a little “Sonata”? She wasn’t going to put up with that kind of shit from a cunt who couldn’t be as talented with blades or intelligence. Plus, Dusk was just a seaman – Sonatina was already a petty officer and on the way up the promotion ladder!

Well, after tonight, Sonatina might be the freak…but Sonata would be a corpse.

Only one place in this world for a real Sonata, Dusk. And that’s me!

“All units, we have a potential officer down at Old Horsetail Road just north of Rock Creek Bridge Parkway. Suspects are presumed to be impersonating ECSD personnel. CPD, SPD and JTF assets will assist. All ECSD personnel are required to stay out of the area for the duration to prevent misidentification.”

Shining had just turned onto Brookstone and Magnolia when the sound came out. Reaching over to tap his radio, he said, “This is 4-Golf-5, I’m moving in.” His heart raced as he cued the siren and took off as fast as the SUV would allow – it certainly couldn’t do the speeds of either his personal car or the police cruiser he used to drive, but this would at least keep him from sliding all over hell and gone while racing along the rain-soaked streets.

He then heard another voice on the channel: “Dispatch, this is Sierra 227 – I’m not far from the location and moving in.” Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that Sandalwood was going to try to get involved.

“Negative, Sierra 227; all ECSD personnel have been ordered to stay clear.”

“Dispatch, I’m in an FBI unit and dressed in cammies with an FBI jacket on. I don’t think I’m going to be confused with normal ECSD personnel.”

Shining reached for the radio. “Dispatch, 4-Golf-5 here. Have Sierra 227 meet up with me and I’ll keep charge on her; I know her personally.”

“Aww, you’re making it a date, Shiny? That’s so sweet!” Sandalwood gushed over the line and a few people listening in laughed, much to his chagrin.

“Dispatch, this is Agent Hardline,” their boss suddenly announced over the line. “I’m in the area as well – I’ll chaperone their date.” After that, four other speakers – one CPD, three SPD – announced that they were moving in as well.

“All units, this is Dispatch. Rendezvous with Agent Hardline; she will be in command. We’re going to have an ambulance in the area, though due to the current situation it might not respond immediately.” Though unspoken, the line was clear: civilian needs were going to be prioritized and that any of them injured – including the officer down at the scene – would just have to survive…or not.

Ignoring the rest of the chatter, Shining instead did what came normally in these situations, a rote pattern that he’d been taught during his days at the police academy: doublechecking his body armor by feel, checking his gun and his ammo, and checking for the Knight’s PDW that he’d been issued as additional armament. He wasn’t too comfortable about it – he’d been trained on the CPD’s M96 Expeditionary, but they should be reasonably similar.

Yeah, reasonably similar, he chided himself. Shining, you’re going into a potential firefight and you’re blowing off important details. That shit’s going to get you very, very dead – and if that happens, you know Cady’s going to find a way to bring you back from the grave and kill you again for being stupid.

Not knowing what else to say, he continued on, racing towards the location, knowing that whatever was awaiting him, it was going to be bad. Very bad.

Early evening descended on Seattle, and as she carried a ton of shopping bags, Coco pranced around, as happy as could be. While the rest of her family had left Canterlot to take care of business, her aunt Solaire wanted to visit Seattle to visit some old haunts of hers, and she’d happily taken both Shimmer and Coco with her. The former was obvious: Sunset Shimmer was Solaire’s daughter and thus wanted to show her child everything about Shimmer’s deceased father that she could. It was also good for Coco as well, given that she knew very little about her uncle Autumn and wanted to know more; she was getting to know her aunt and cousin as it was, so spending time with them was paramount, given that they were returning to France at the end of the month.

“Enjoying yourself, Coco?” Shimmer asked as the trio stepped out of the taxi, headed back into the hotel to drop off their bags before they went off to dinner.

“Yeah! I’m getting to spend time with my favorite cousin, and I’ve never been to Seattle before, so this is great!” she squeaked in delight.

“Favorite cousin?” Solaire said with a bit of amusement.

“Well, and favorite aunt,” she said with a wink. “Granted, I really don’t know any of my aunts, uncles or cousins from my mom’s side of the family, so you guys get it by default.” That brought a grin to Shimmer’s face and the giggle to Solaire’s.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re my favorite cousin,” Shimmer responded back, dropping her bags briefly to hug her cousin, who seemed to melt into the older girl’s embrace.

“Hey, when we get back you have to promise that you’ll meet some of my friends, okay?” Coco insisted. “They’re just the best! Plus, you just have to meet my mentor, Twily – she’s awesome, too! You have to meet them before you go back – promise me, okay?”

Between Coco’s hugs and the placating look of her mother, Shimmer had to agree. Shimmer still felt some trepidation about meeting other people at the moment – especially people who could cause her issues given her royal status – but she knew that being social was her biggest weakness. Outside her circle of friends, she hadn’t socialized much since her boyfriend’s betrayal, and despite her friends’ attempts, she was becoming more of a wallflower as of late. As a princess of France, that wouldn’t do; she had to be worthy of her nobility…even when it bothered her to do so.

“Sure,” Shimmer conceded. “I’m okay with that.”

“Okay, I’ll call Sweetie and set something up! I’d ask Crackle, but she’s out of town – maybe you can meet her next time you’re in town!” Coco chirped.

“You might want to wait a few days until the town has recovered from the hurricane, though, Coco.”

She blushed. “Oh. Hadn’t thought about that.”


As the three ladies walked into the lobby, a hotel representative greeted them, holding up a package. “Excuse me, madam? This package just arrived for you, FedEx.” The woman had curly eggplant-and-dark-fuchsia hair and deep magenta eyes. She seemed to be of subcontinental descent, though she had a clear American accent.

Solaire looked at the girls. “Go ahead and take the stuff up. Let me sign for this and I’ll be up soon. Sunset, dear, would you be so kind as to make reservations for us? Wherever you two wish to go.”

Shimmer nodded. “Sure thing, Mom!” she said, taking her mother’s bags as well and, cousin in tow, headed towards the elevators.

Solaire waited until her charges were just out of eyeshot before looking at the package – which was a DHL-labeled envelope. Solaire shook her head; if there was one thing she hated, it was having introductions that way. “I figured that DCRI would send someone sooner or later, despite my request not to.”

“They didn’t.” The woman shook her head before flashing a badge. “Agent Saffron Masala, US State Department Diplomatic Security Service. We were obligated to send someone the moment we found out you were in the country, and given that the DCRI officially asked for our assistance, I’m glad I was able to meet you here.”

Solaire suddenly felt a shiver. “Is there something wrong, Agent Masala?” Solaire had always disliked dealing with the General Directorate of Internal Security, but generally the DCRI was usually good about her requests to not require protection. For them to change their minds….

All I wanted was just to give Sunset a normal life, so she wouldn’t have to be a princess all the time, Solaire mourned internally. And now this. Will Coco be dragged into this as well?

“Please, just look at the report, madam.” Masala put her badge back, then produced a card. “Dinner, 8:30 PM, it’s on me.” She began walking away. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go pick up someone at the airport.”

Solaire looked at the card. “The Tasty Treat – Finest Indian Cuisine in Washington State, Coriander Cumin, Proprietor?” She blinked. “Everett? That’s forty-five minutes north of here,” she called back. “Are you sure about this?”

Masala waved back. “I grew up in that restaurant – I know it’s the best!” Before Solaire could say anything further, the DSS agent rounded a corner and disappeared.

Solaire fought to keep a straight face as she looked at where the agent had gone, and then to the envelope metaphorically burning a hole in her hand. The top had been torn open, revealing the letterhead of the DCRI, which never meant anything good. Slipping it into her purse and hoping to have a chance to read it before tonight, the princess then went off to the lobby to see about a car rental.

Why is this getting worse and worse?

Out in the roar of the rain, the visibility of the patrols was reduced. If it wasn’t for the fact that the OIC had been expecting something – though she didn’t say what – protocol would have been for them to reduce the external patrols to someone every fifteen minutes. But that wasn’t the case, and instead here they were, getting soaked to the bone and with nothing to do.

“Oh, shut the hell up, Lied,” her partner, Hierodrame, moaned. “If I hear you bitch one more time about how we’re stuck out here—”

Lied rolled her eyes. “Look, Drammie, all I’m saying is that the OIC’s fucked in the head for putting us out here in the fucking soup, okay? God, I need a date with a fifth of Black Label, just to make it through the rest of the Goddamn day after this. Then I need some guy to treat me right and make me very satisfied.”

Hierodrame barked a rude laugh. “Look, if you’re that hard up, go pester Synthpop. She’ll fuck anything.”

“What, do I look like a carpet muncher to y—”

Hierodrame cut her off. “Shhhhh! Did you hear that?” she whispered, crouching down to provide less of a target, the action born of years of constant training.

Lied brought her sniper rifle up, looking through the scope not to target anyone but to look around. “I don’t see anyo—”


The shot was perfect and instantaneous. The round, burning through the air, blasted through the scope and into Lied’s eye, then punching out the back of her skull in a clean exit. Lied staggered for a second, lowering the rifle to reveal her ruined face before collapsing to the ground.

“LIED!” Hierodrame screamed, before rushing for the radio on the table near them. Whoever had taken out Lied was one hell of a sniper and Hierodrame knew she was dead the moment she left cover. But she needed to warn the others, even if it meant her life—

—the command of which was taken out of her hands by the K-BAR held to her throat. “Oh, looks like I got me a perty one,” was a long, slow drawl. “So, darlin’, should you tell me your name before or after our date?”

Hierodrame knew in a second what that meant. “Go fuck yourself.”

“All the same to you, miss, you’re much more available.” At the second voice, Hierodrame felt her web belt being removed. She tensed up, ready to strike, but then felt the knife prick closer. “You’re feisty, I like that,” the first voice said. “But too feisty and I might have to end our relationship, got it?”

The second ALICORN member looked at the first. Hierodrame couldn’t make out details, as he was wearing a monkey cap, but from what details, she could make out, he was heavily armed. “What, you think you’re going to get away with this?” she snarled.

Her answer was a fist across the face. “Grey, you need to teach your girlfriend manners,” the assailant said, as Heirodrame spit out blood.

“Yeah, later, Maroon, but leave her mouth alone. I might need it for later.”

“Yeah, well, let me leave you on your date here. I need to tell Gold that we have Patrol One out of commission. Oh, wait – you’ll need some help unwrapping your gift, won’t you?” Maroon reached over and in one fell swoop pulled down Hierodrame’s pants and underwear. “Oh, drawstring type. Looks like she was ready for you, buddy,” Maroon said, clapping Grey on the shoulder.

“Yeah, lucky me. Now go let the boss know we’re ready and go find your own girlfriend. Me and my sweetie here need to make wedding arrangements.” Maroon moved into the distance, and with that, left Grey in a compromising position behind Hierodrame. “Well, since this is our first time, honey,” he said, hissing into her ear, “I’ll just park it in number one. But if you like it that way, we’ll see how much fun we can have, okay?”

“I’ll kill you,” Hierodrame snarled, even as she could hear him unbuckling his own pants. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll kill you.”

“Well, don’t the Frenchies call an orgasm ‘the little death’?” he said with a grin. The grin fell a second later, as a sharp, tinny bang occurred. Both looked down to see Lied, with the last of her strength, using her remaining eye to aim her pistol, which had shot Grey around the heart. Despite whatever padding the man had that indicated a bullet proof vest, the welling blood around the hole showed the truth of Lied’s armor-piercing round striking true.

Lied gave Hierodrame a weak, friendly smile before dying.

“YOU BITCH!” Grey instinctively slashed Hierodrame’s throat wide open with his knife before falling back. Feeling the slash of blood spurt out, Hierodrame knew she was dead and only had seconds to act. Reaching over to the table where her pistol and radio were, she turned to aim at Grey, who was down on the ground, his pants down around his ankles.

Gurgling something that sounded like, “Honey, we’re through,” she fired twice, once at his manhood then right between the eyes. She didn’t notice if either round hit as she collapsed to the ground, her lifeblood staining the front of her shirt. Her strength fading, Hierodrame set the radio to the emergency channel, then left the broadcast key open. With the sounds of the rain and no voice to counter it, it would be the best chance she had of warning her fellow SIRENs that they were under attack.

Her duty done, she crawled over to Lied’s body and managed to cradle her friend in a hug before she took her final choking breath.

Klaxons split the air as the SIREN base went into lockdown and all personnel went to Action Stations. Relying on training, each member of the units assigned to the main facility moved as one, falling into their familiar cadence as they slipped into position.

Standing in the middle of the command center, Cantata looked at those assembled around her. “All stations, report!”

“Outer perimeter under control, ma’am,” came the response from one of the SIRENs assembled at a command console. “All units in position.”

A second SIREN at another console spoke up. “Inner perimeter is being swept and there are no signs of intruders. All vital locations are secured or are being manned at this time.”

“We have a breach at the Bolthole,” a third one responded. “Unknown forces attacking—”

“Unknown, my ass,” Cantata hissed. “Looks like Les SCARS moved in.”

“That’s a negative, ma’am. From what reports we’re getting, these are SOFs, not ARROWHEAD or CSIS,” the SIREN said, an air of distaste in her mouth.

“Good, then we don’t need to send backup if they’re just gangsters who went to bootcamp,” she said with an easy grin. “Inform the OIC we’ll have people on standby, but they will not engage unless they run into serious opposition.”


It was at this point that Rhapsody walked in. “Captain, may I have a word with you?”

“Sure thing, XO,” Cantata said as she walked up to her. “What’s up?”

Moving out of earshot of the junior personnel, Rhapsody asked, “Look, we’ve got personnel in trouble and we need to extract th—”

Cantata shook her head. “No, Rhapi. Do you know why we put those particular individuals in the Bolthole? Because if we got attacked there – and I honestly wish we hadn’t, given that it was our backup plan – they would be able to defend it. The fact is, we just got our backup facility taken down. And if we send reinforcements, then we’ll have personnel that will be traced. They know that and we know they know that and they know that we know that they know that.” She sighed theatrically. “Didn’t you take any intelligence courses?”

“No, my sœur was more concerned with me learning weapon systems and the like,” Rhapsody admitted. “But still, this is Ellie we’re talking about!”

“I know!” Cantata said, holding back her anger. “But she’s a professional, just like you are – or I thought you were.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rhapsody asked.

The fact that you’ve betrayed us, Cantata thought, though she didn’t vocalize that, instead stating, “You’re the Executive Officer here, Rhapsody. Act like it. The fact that Ellie is in the middle of that is bad enough, and that despite what I told the others, yes I know what they’re dealing with is a problem.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Canta?”

The senior SIREN looked at her junior officer. “Think about it: do you think Les SCARS would just hand the job over to anyone, much less get the CIA to sign off on letting them run ragged around the American hinterlands? No – it has to be someone the Americans have worked with themselves, and there are very few groups that fit the bill…but only one that I know of that CSIS would even bother with. I don’t know the group’s name, but they’re all composed of people who have left various global special operations forces under…dubious circumstances.”

“Really?”

“No, actually, I have no idea. I only know what I was told and from the records the Admiral left me when he died, I got the feeling he didn’t know too much about them, either. Whoever at CSIS does know about them, well, they’re not on our payroll.”

“Well, they’re in trouble – and I’m not going to stand by idly. I’m taking a small strike team out there to reinforce.”

“This might all be done by the time you get out there, XO.”

“Yeah, and our troops might be dead – and they’ll have access to our intel!” Rhapsody cried. “And when they get that, they’ll be on top of us like bees on honey.”

Cantata shook her head. “Fine, get a squad out there. If they’re fine, have Ellie report in. If they’re not – standard field disposal protocol.”

“I don’t like that, Canta.”

“You don’t have to, Commander,” Cantata said, waving her rank in front of her subordinate. “You just have to do it. Dismissed.”

The glare of red and blue LED beacons burned through the dismal gray of the unyielding rainstorm as one law enforcement vehicle approached another. As Shining’s vehicle approached Melati’s police cruiser, the fact that the door was open and everything looked completely untouched worried him. Then a jag of lighting lit up the area, revealing the body lying on the ground.

Shining wasted no time. Grabbing his radio, he shouted into it, “This is 4-Golf-5 – man down, we have a man down on location!” He then withdrew his pistol and opened the door to his car slowly, getting ready to move towards his friend’s corpse – of that, he had no doubt. Emotions welled in him, but he fought them down for the moment. He needed to get whoever got Melati and put that bastard behind bars.

He didn’t have to wait long as he heard the shattering of the windshield following by the report of a rifle. Instinct taking over, he bolted behind his vehicle just as rounds tore through the door and the space he’d been a second ago. He didn’t bother to return fire; without knowing where his assailant was, all it would do would be to waste ammunition.

A few more rounds blasted through the SUV, and from what he could tell, they were tearing through it easily, which meant that someone was firing a high-powered sniper rifle, though he wasn’t that up on that kind of hardware. Maybe I should’ve done time in the military; maybe I’d be able to tell the difference between a really good sniper rifle and an anti-materiel one. A bullet then ripped through the back gate of the SUV, coming uncomfortably close to his head. Yeah, I really need to figure out where the gunfire’s coming from.

In the distance, sirens grew louder, and he smiled to himself. Or maybe I just need to wait this out, he thought to himself. “You know,” he shouted in the direction of the gunfire, “if you just surrender, you’ll make it much easier on yourself!” The response to that was another round of gunfire, and he felt the vehicle shift as one of the tires was blown out.

Guy’s good, Shining thought to himself, a cool calm washing over him. He was going to beat this bastard, if it was the last thing he did. As the sirens drew closer, he made his move, rushing away from the car and towards the relatively better-armored cover of Melati’s cruiser. As he tore through, he felt something burn through the air just past his ear, and a split-second later heard the muzzle report. Instinct forced him to dive and roll, coming to a stop just before her trunk. This time, however, he returned fire, pulling the trigger and letting his pistol bark as he sent rounds into the darkness of the nearby trees, hoping that he’d hit his target. He didn’t have much to lose by that; his attacker already knew where he was.

Finally, he could hear the roar of several engines as his backup arrived. Now or never, he said to himself, hoping that the body armor he wore would be able to stop whatever rounds were going to probably impact against his chest. Once they were ready, they would sweep whoever it is and put them down. He felt like he was repeating himself, but at the moment, time flowed slow when you’re being shot at, many a senior officer had told him, and you tended to think cyclically if it didn’t immediately pertain to the situation.


A few seconds later another SUV roared towards them, the engine gunning and the cherry light on the top radiating red and blue as the blaring drone of the siren ripped through the air. The brakes of the huge steel wagon squealed against the rainslicked road, sending a spray of water in a forward blast as the car spun to come to a stop. With a final shriek of metal against soaked asphalt creating a fugue of sound against the onslaught of patters that was the storm, the car came to a stop. The driver’s side door slammed open and with the practiced move of someone used to combat, Hardline rushed out, headed towards Shining’s side in a motion that left him in surprise. He’d been at the top of his class in the academy and he was probably the fittest person in his precinct, but the way the FBI agent moved, it was clear that her years of Marine training had turned her into something far beyond him.

So his reality moved in horrifying slow motion as he heard the zip of a round tear through the air and rock her head back in a terrible blossom of dark red illuminated by the headlights of her vehicle. Surprise hadn’t even had a chance to register on Hardline’s face as she let go of her FBI-issued MP5, the carbine skittering to the ground just ahead of her as she crumpled to the ground. There was no chance to see if she’d been grazed; not with the unnatural angle her head bent at.

“HARDLINE!” Shining screamed and was rewarded by two more rounds coming in his direction, one of them shattering the windshield of Hardline’s vehicle. However, in his success, this time the shooter had given away a vital clue, as the light from one of the headlights briefly glinted off the sniper rifle, just enough for Shining to see – it was coming from the damaged-looking police vehicle on the other end of the barricade. It had been damaged to appear as if it had already been attacked, and that was probably what had done Melati in, he realized. He couldn’t afford to allow her death to be in vain; moreso, he had a fiancé to get back to in one piece.

Got you now, you son of a bitch, he snarled silently as he dropped to the floor. If he moved fast enough and luck was on his side, he could reach Hardline’s rifle and that would give him an advantage. That advantage ended a second later as the rifle barked once more and the MP5 in front of him cracked in two from the shot; whoever his assailant was, he wasn’t going to give Shining the luxury of even a small advantage.

“Shining, you there?” The sound of his radio went off, and in his shock, he realized he’d forgotten about it. Revulsion washed through him as he realized he could have warned Hardline about what was out there, but he put that aside – there was nothing he could have done and in any case, there were other things to consider at the moment.

“Four-Golf-Five here,” he spoke into the radio. “Sandy, we got a sniper out here, sitting in that fake police van. He’s got me pinned down and he’s taken out Hardy and Mel.”

“The fuck?” she sounded over the line. “Oh hell no. You sit tight; I should be on site in two minutes, tops. I’ve got others behind me, so cavalry’s coming.” She groaned. “Cavalry. Fucking Army term – never going to live that down.”

“Sandy, what are you going to do?” he asked.


The answer sounded a second later as the roar of an engine bellowed and an unmarked black Ford Taurus rocketed past him, lights and siren booming. Without even considering to stop, Sandalwood pushed forward and rammed the sniper’s nest at top speed, the deafening crunch of metal against metal as the sedan caved the van’s back in. The impact was strong enough to push both vehicles well into the treeline, knocking down some of the smaller ones as the mass of man-made materials became one very impromptu battering ram bulldozing its way through the local flora.

Shining forced himself to his feet, ignoring the shock. He could already hear the whine of other sirens in the distance, but he ignored those for the moment. Rushing to where Sandalwood had crashed her cruiser, his mind raced. It was bad enough that he’d lost two friends here – but if Sandalwood was one of the fallen, he didn’t know how Cadance would react. The two were tight, and it would utterly wreck her if the boisterous brunette joined the angels….

“Sandy!” he shouted as he reached the ruined cruiser, fearing the worst. Instead, he found a collapsed airbag and Sandalwood bleeding from multiple cuts, though thankfully none of them looked severe.

“Great, took me a car crash to get you to pay attention,” she said in a woozy voice. “Fuck my life.”

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, a concerned look coming over his face.

“No, I think my leg’s broken,” she grunted, a stab of pain radiating through her visage. “Look, I’m not going anywhere. But you better check stupid and see if I got him.”

“You stay here, okay? Help’s on the way.”

She laughed bitterly. “That was supposed to be my line.”

He gave her a friendly smile as he patted her comfortingly on her shoulder, then moved forward towards where the wreckage of the van had been. The first thing he saw was the ruined, bent remains of a nasty-looking, military-issue sniper rifle. That did not make him easy about the situation. The second thing he found was, pinned under some bent metal and clearly with a leg sheared off, the sniper. Despite the fact that he was bleeding out, he was trying to move himself free of the wreckage, in the hopes that he could somehow get out of his predicament. While the suspect was dressed in an ECSD uniform, the look of him made it glaringly obvious he wasn’t a sheriff’s deputy in any way, shape or form.

“Don’t move,” Shining ordered the man. “Let me get you some assistance. Is there any sor—” Before Shining could finish the sentence, the man reached for a pistol in a holster on his chest, and in one easy move, pulled the gun free, with the intent to kill Shining.

However, Shining’s instincts took over and as the man began to aim, Shining pulled his trigger twice. The bullets hit true, and the man managed to get off a shot that came nowhere near him as he gave his death rattle. But it didn’t end. As soon as the ringing echo of the shots went away, he could hear something in the distance – repeated popping – and he didn’t need to see the evidence to know what that was.

“Freeze! SPD!” a voice shouted behind him.

“FBI,” Shining said, putting up his hands briefly. Given the situation here, he fully expected to be frisked and after the SPD officer did so, he backed off, giving Shining a nod of all-clear.

“Thanks,” Shining replied, taking his mind off the man he’d just killed in the line of duty. “You got here just in time.”

“Not soon enough,” the officer replied. “I take it the two down over there are ours?”

“Yeah,” Shining answered, biting off his anger; while the SPD officer had been neutral about it, the fact was he couldn’t have known those were friends of Shining’s, or that Shining himself still felt guilt over Hardline’s death. Furthermore, Sunnytown’s police tended to see a lot more action than the other agencies in the Canterlot Metro area, so growing hard-hearted was probably all too easy. “Agent Hardline and Officer Melati Jasmine. They were friends of mine.”

The SPD officer put his hands up. “Hey, relax, pal – I don’t mean anything by it.” He offered his hand. “Gumshoe,” he replied.

“Shining Armor,” Shining said, shaking Gumshoe’s hand.

Shining heard another voice call out, “Yo, anyone in there? CPD, I’m coming in!” He looked over to see Takedown, one of the CPD officers who would be backup. He’d only run into Takedown a few times, but Shining knew the man to be up and up. “Hey, Armor. Sorry to hear about Jasmine. I’ve got Chaser with me and she’s getting out some blankets to put over Jasmine and that FBI woman.”

Shining nodded curtly. “Either of you know first aid?”

“Yeah, I teach that for our precinct,” Gumshoe replied.

“Okay, got an injured ECSD deputy in her car. You and Chaser make sure that we get extra backup here, maybe SWAT or something. Takedown, you’re with me. Get to your cruiser and get your rifle.”

“Look, Armor, I don’t—” The sound of gunfire in the distance caught the attention of all three men.

“Is that…automatic fire?” Gumshoe asked.

“Right, going to get the shotgun,” Takedown said. “What about you?”

Shining looked around the destroyed innards of the fake van. It clearly had been designed to deliver troops and materiel, and the gun racks on shattered bulkheads – not police standard – were mostly empty. Mostly, save for a single machine gun, which Shining grabbed. He’d seen it before: An Arsenal Shipka, a Bulgarian-made machine gun that he’d happened to see at the Northern California Gun Show a couple of years back. It seemed like something of a military fantasy, and he’d never had a chance to touch it, much less use it.

That was about to change.

Checking the ammo and the condition of the weapon, he looked at Takedown and said, “I think I’ll manage.”

Blackthorn spat out a gob of blood. So far, things had not gone the way he intended. Sure, the cunts in SIREN had some skills; he’d have been a fool not to admit that. But he had every tactical advantage and was moving on them with no chance of them knowing about it at all. Things were going to be perfect, he was going to put these sluts down like they were supposed to go down – much to the delight of many of his men, he was sure – and then he was going to go collect his girlfriend, kill that Goddamn traitor Loam and then sip a mai-tai on the beaches of Belize.

But so far things weren’t working out that way. Despite the fact that he’d had every advantage and some of the best fighters around, the little bitches were still giving him issues. Many of his men – good operators, guys who knew their shit in and out – were cut down by the little fuckholes. Sure, his men were giving them as good as they got – he personally enjoyed putting a few extra holes in some of them that clearly needed them – but the body count was going to be horrible. As it was, he already had to pull both his reserves and leave the checkpoints manned only by single guards instead of the triple setup he had initially. But his hands were tied, he was losing men and he had still several of these fucking cunts to kill.

Damn, he wasn’t going to have much time to relax back in their new digs before he went on a hiring spree. Fortunately, there were always SOFs going off the leash – he’d heard some rumors of military drawdowns in China, and the PLA always produced hardcore results.

With a grunt, he pulled the knife out of his shoulder, glad that it hadn’t hit any vitals when it went in. Fortunately, he couldn’t say anything about the one he’d stuck in the girl on the ground next to him. As he got up, the one he’d fought directly against, Violin Elegy, the leader of the base, looked up at him weakly and burbled through bloody lips, “Go to hell, fucker.”

“Ah, but you don’t want to say that,” he said, looking at the knife he buried right into her heart. If it was removed, she’d die instantly…or left there, would eventually bleed out. “Especially since I’m such a nice guy,” he said, gesturing to himself as he got back to his feet. “Right now, my guys are rolling over yours and well, getting a few dates.”

“Getting their dicks cut off, more likely,” Elegy managed to his before coughing up more blood.

“Yeah, but I look at you, girlie, and, well…I don’t like it. I’m a family man, you know. Got this cute girlfriend here, nice body, all the curves—”

“How many times you rape her before she fell unconscious?”

Blackthorn spat another wad, this time in her face. “Hey, my girl’s a nice lady, so you don’t get to say shit like that. She knows how to make me feel right and that’s all that matters, got that? But anyway, not my point.” He reached behind him and pulled out a pistol, tossing it to the ground next to her. “Only one round, tits. You can either shoot me and I’ll just limp away – but I’ll get away. Or you can end it all and go out quickly, because,” he said as he pointed to the knife in her chest, “that’s gotta hurt.”

“You won’t live to see tomorrow, you bastard,” Elegy spat. “I swear if there’s any justice in the world, you won’t live to see midnight.”

“Maybe,” he said as he walked away, “but I guarantee I’ll live longer than you.”

Ignoring her, he walked away, moving throughout the passageways and away from her. He didn’t take more than a few steps before he heard a single tinny, metallic ping sound out. He grinned; mission accomplished. The other sounds of gunfire, still resounding around him as his men fought and died to kill bitches that didn’t deserve to live, but to Blackthorn, it was a musical symphony, a grand theater of percussive sound that informed him that his mission was a success and that Belize was not too far off.

Oh, I can’t wait to get between your thighs and wrap my fingers around that pastel hair, he thought with a salacious leer. And then I’m going to put down that fucking dog that you call a boyfriend. And then, sweet cheeks, you’re all mine.

Solaire rarely was one for Indian food, she had to admit; her husband preferred it far more than her, and her daughter had inherited his love of spicy foods. So coming to the Tasty Treat was, truthfully, a complete surprise. The owner, Coriander Cumin, had studied at the Sorbonne briefly before his return to India and his eventual move to the US, settling down in a suburb north of Seattle. He had learned to fuse the local foods with his native Indian flair, and by the end of the meal, Solaire had found that she was genuinely surprised that the place had not earned more accolades. She knew someone on the Michelin board, and she would have to recommend this restaurant soonest.

As she looked over the diamond-shaped slice of kaju katli placed in front of her by the waitress, she stole a quick look at Shimmer and Coco, who were seated at another table, looking intently at their phones. Solaire sighed; she hated to tell them that this was business, but in a sense it was, and in any case, she didn’t want them knowing what this could be, unless it was absolutely necessary. In the meanwhile, these two were just “business associates”, and that’s the way it would remain.

At the moment, she looked at Agent Masala, sitting there and sipping from a pot of chai she’d went into the back and brewed herself – “Soothes the nerves,” she said – and looking very much like a young schoolteacher as opposed to a DSS agent. But it was the man with the blond hair in a mullet, 5 o’ clock shadow, lazy purple eyes and a rumpled cyan shirt and jeans who was slugging back multiple beers, that had her concerned. He’d been quiet and somewhat lackadaisical during the whole time they’d been there, and if it was an act, it was a good one.

“Pardon me,” she began, “I know Agent Masala here, but I don’t know you, Mister—”

He gave her the kind of grin that said he already knew everything about her; she hated that. “Your next husband?” he said.

“This is not the time for that,” she told him.

“Fine, fine,” he said. “Though if you’re still available, I do have a thing for older women….”

“Zephyr!” Masala admonished.

“Y’know, Saf, you’re cute when you get angry. But I digress.” He pulled out a badge. “Zephyr Breeze, DSS.” He then took another swig of his beer and added, “Et une personne incroyablement sexy, pensait que ce assez évident.”

“Your French is impeccable, sir,” Solaire replied.

“Thank you. My mother was from Calais, so she taught me everything. Dad, however, was from Atlanta, so I grew up there, but spent summers with the grandparents back in France and that went double when the parents divorced. When I was old enough, joined the Army, saw the world, got a girl back in France pregnant, married her, then had a kid, though I doubt I’m still grown up much myself. Got out of the Army, joined the DSS and got stationed in the Pacific office down in La-la-land. When I’m not on the clock, I spend most of my time surfing, playing videogames and trying to be a somewhat decent parent; my wife hasn’t killed me yet, so I assume that’s a plus.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Solaire could see Agent Masala roll her eyes in response before she took control of the conversation. “In any case, thank you for taking time out of your schedule to see us, your highness. I realize this is your personal time, but I’m afraid that when we’re done, you may want to reconsider said personal time.”

“I declined protection from the SPHP, and I know they have agents in the San Francisco consulate.”

“We understand the French government has declined to do so based on your wishes,” Masala explained. “However, the DSS has different requirements. We’ll be shadowing you; there won’t be any direct contact unless you request it. I take it you read that documentation that I gave you earlier?” Solaire shook her head.

Breeze took another drink of his beer. “And here I thought we had a smart one.”

“Fine. The truth is, we have a report, forwarded to us by both the CIA and our French allies….” Masala looked straight at her. “The French government has reason to believe that someone is hunting both the French royal and imperial families. The accident with your brother, Battaille and his wife Quinelle? They found an embedded round in the car wreck. Your brother was assassinated.” Solaire gasped, then bit it off as soon as she could so the children wouldn’t hear her.

“Your sister, Etoile?”

“She prefers Star,” Solaire said with a worried look. “She’s a bit of an Anglophile. Is she okay?”

“There was an incident in Oslo. She’s fine, but she’s been hospitalized. Your brother, Noblesse, is on the way to see her. SPHP has assigned guards to him.”

“But that’s not all,” Breeze said, pulling out his phone and turning it on; clearly he was reading something from the screen. “Members of the French royal family have been attacked in several locations. Yesterday, Prince Hateur was killed during a vacation in Germany. They’ve arrested suspects, but DCRI believes that they have been paid to take the fall. Additionally, Australian authorities found a body that was identified as Prince Divine Right, floating in Sydney Bay.”

Solaire turned away from that. She hated her cousin, but she never wanted anything to happen to him.

Masala reached over to touch Solaire’s hand. “I know this isn’t easy for you, your highness, and I sympathize. I worry about my family every time I’m out in the field, and I don’t doubt Zephyr here is the same way.” She gave him a look out of the corner of her eye that said that she didn’t want an argument from him, then continued. “When you return to Canterlot, and for however long you’ll be in the US, we’ll be present.”

“I don’t like this,” Solaire admitted.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Zephyr said. “I’d planned to take the family on vacation to France last month, but then I got this call. So I’m stuck – which means, so are you. You don’t have to like it, Princess, but you do have to put up with it. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you’ll be able to keep your daughter in complete ignorance, right?”

Masala facepalmed. “Stay classy, Zeph.”

“Okay, we ready to do this?” Adagio asked her sisters. At the moment, she had her bag packed and looked out the window at the early evening.

“Yeah. I told them we were checking out tomorrow, and they’ll just charge the card,” Aria informed her sisters. “In the meanwhile, I rented a car on the second card and got us a new hotel room just north of town. From there it should be a straight shot up the freeway to Canterlot once the rainstorm dies down. We’ll be able to make it with little problem.”

Looking out the window one last time, Sonata said, “I haven’t seen our tail at all. I don’t like that.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she gave up, either, which is why we need to move fast,” Adagio answered. “Sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can work to lose her.” Both sisters nodded, and with that, they picked up their bags and readied to depart…

…only to have the door kicked in, slamming Adagio in the face. Sonatina immediately moved fast, firing four rounds on doubletap, hitting both Aria and Sonata in the chest, with no doubts that they were fatal blows. She then shot the window out, ready to make her escape.

As Adagio shrugged off the blow, she suddenly felt Sonatina’s gun right in her face. “Too bad you guys went rogue,” she said with a smirk. “Actually, no – good for me, because I’ve wanted to kill your sister for the longest ti—AAAAAAAAGGHHH!” Her words were cut off a she suddenly found a few throwing stars buried in the arm.

“Knew stopping at that dollar import store would be a boon,” Sonata said as she got off the ground. Her shirt had a hole in it, revealing the body armor she wore underneath. Holding her hand up like she was playing a poker hand, she produced four more black 24-point throwing stars.

“Wait, aren’t those illegal here?” Aria, also having worn protective gear, said, rubbing the spot where the round had sunk into the armor but had not gone past.

Sonata smirked. “Rainbow has some – she told me it’s, quote, ‘jaywalking illegal, not napalm illegal,’ whatever that means. Plus, these came on a chain so technically they’re decorative necklaces that kinda look like throwing stars.” Looking back at Sonatina, she gave a dark look and added, “But I bet they still hurt, don’t they, Crush?”

“I’ll kill you!” the would-be assassin screeched, turning away from the dazed Adagio and towards her hated nemesis. If there was one person in the room that deserved to die more than anyone else, it was Sonata Dusk, and Sonatina Crush was going to put her down. Despite the wounds in her arm, she threw her knife at Sonata while bringing up another to bury between her eyes.

So it was a shock to her that with an easy motion, Sonata caught the projectile in mid-air, then moved forward and slugged her right in the solar plexus. Sonatina’s air expelled and she buckled but recovered quickly. Still, that brief stall was more than enough for Sonata to move forward, slashing her opponent across the face with one her shuriken, following it up with taking Sonatina’s own throwing knife and stabbing her in the eye.

Sonatina shrieked and instinctively stabbed out once more with the one knife still in her hand. Sonata, with the practiced ease of a martial artist, grabbed the arm and pulled forward, then reached over and grabbed Sonatina’s hair. As she moved, she snarled, “You’ll never hurt my sisters again, you bitch!” And with minimal effort, threw Sonatina Crush out the window. The screaming could be heard until it was abruptly silenced by the sound of crunching metal – Sonata didn’t need to look out the window to know Sonatina had crashed atop a car, and in the process had set off its siren.

Aria helped Adagio steady herself. “C’mon, sis, we gotta get out of here.”

“Well, she knows how to hit,” Adagio said, closing her eyes briefly.

“She can’t do anything anymore,” Sonata said in a final tone. “Now c’mon; that kind of noise is going to draw attention. Aria, you know where you parked the car; lead the way.” The middle sister nodding, the three grabbed their bags before jumping out the window and sliding down the drainpipes. As soon as they hit the ground, they disappeared into the shadows, leaving the mess and one would-be killer behind.

“Christ, this is a fucking mess.” Blackthorn leaned his carbine over his good shoulder, looking at the burning ground behind him. For some reason, the place was rigged to blow in the event of a successful incursion; one of his men had tripped that alarm and in the process had been killed shortly thereafter. In the process of him escaping, he had to put two more holes in two of the bitches, and mercy kill one of his own men – a shame; Gunsmithy was one of the better SOFs he had. But work was work, and now this was finally over.

“Hey, boss.” One of the new guys, a former Australian SAS guy by the name of Thunder Bay had something over his shoulder; from the looks of it, she was out cold and nearly completely undressed. She also looked like she was fourteen – Fuck, how young were they training these little tramps? – but she clearly had the musculature of someone who was used to pushing it hard. “Got me my present.”

“Yeah, can tell. Already tested the merchandise?”

Thunder nodded. “Yeah. Oh, she’s gonna be a fun shiela, I can tell ya. I say give her a couple of years, and I’ll have her so broken in, she’ll be like one of those sitcom mums: apron, baking biscuits and all.”

Blackthorn nodded his approval. “Okay, you know the drill. Get to the van, wait for the rest. If you don’t hear from anyone else in thirty minutes, assume the worst and get going. We’ll make it out okay.”

“Roger that.” With that, Thunder whistled a happy tune as he walked into the rain-soaked distance. Blackthorn was glad he did; there was something about that guy that gave him the creeps. Will have to look at cutting him loose as soon as I can, though if he’s wrong about that SIREN cunt he’s got, she might just do the job for me. Hrm. Maybe I can pay her to off him and join us. That might not be a bad idea, especially if she’s going to be without a job real soon….

He clicked his radio. “All, this is Argo Six. SITREP, over.” Silence came from the radio. “All units, this is Argo Six. Report.” Nothing. “All units, this is Argo Six. Mission complete, we are pulling back and heading to the barn. Anyone on radio, proceed to the vulture; we bounce at the preset time. Argo Six, out.” He threw the radio on the ground, then aimed quickly with his carbine and shot it. Anyone who heard that had their orders; anyone who didn’t, well, they likely weren’t going to hear anything ever again.

A soft orange glow started to grow brighter in the distance as the SIREN backup facility started to catch fire from the explosions within, the muffled sounds of the charges going off as the facility self-destructed. He was sure that there was some valuable intel in there that he could have sold to Changeling and those Canuckian assholes he worked for, but they hadn’t negotiated that. Besides, he was sure that his contacts at the Company already knew about what was going down and tomorrow this place would be swimming with people who worked for alphabet agencies. If not, he’d make a discreet call; SOF or not, he was still a patriotic American, after all.

His job done, he started to walk in the direction where he’d parked the van. This part of the job was over. Now, the fun would begin: he would kill that cowardly shitbag Sable Loam with every little bit of pleasure he could wring out of it. After that, he’d have a new girlfriend; maybe he’d even celebrate with Little Miss Titty right there in her bedroom before they went off on their permanent vacation – Loam’s dying vision being his girl trading up for a better class of man and a better lay certainly had an appeal to it. He could practically taste her thighs now….


“FREEZE! FBI!” He turned to see a pair of boys standing there – definitely not men; not with their clean-shaven faces and all-too long hair. The front guy, his FBI badge glistening and his long two-shades-of-blue hair looking like a mop soaked it, and seemed like he barely knew how to hold a gun, much less the gear – Is that a Shipka? – he was holding. Behind him, carrying your standard barely-could-hit-anything police shotgun, was a kid even more wet behind the ears than the G-Man. Between the two of them, Blackthorn was surprised either had hit puberty.

“Ha! You kids are funny, you know that? Well, Halloween ain’t for another couple of months, so why don’t you go scurry on home and wait until you learn how to tie your shoes, okay?” Blackthorn said to the FBI agent.

“Drop the weapon,” the agent told him, bringing the Shipka up to a decent firing position. By the book, just your typical cop bullshit. Blackthorn rolled his eyes. At least the Fibbie was ready for this. The kid behind him looked like he was about to wet his pants. Maybe in a few more years, the FBI kid would be something of value, but Blackthorn wasn’t going to let him live long enough to do so.

“Kid, both of you have one chance to walk away before I kill you both,” Blackthorn said, still not moving from his position. “You don’t have the stones to take me down and I’ve killed better men than you’ll ever be. And since the best part of you both are still in the condoms your daddies flushed down the toilet, I’m going to be nice and let you walk away. So that’s the deal. Walk, or die.”

“I said, drop the weapon,” the FBI agent told him. “This is your last chance to comply.”

“Kid, you’re wasting my time. I got a traitor to kill and a woman to fuck until she begs me to make her my love toy. So get out of here, or you get a bullet between your eyes. Both of you.” The only response was for the kid behind the FBI agent to suddenly look like he grew a spine and started to step forward.

That was more than enough of an answer for Blackthorn. Instinct took over and he brought his gun to bear, pulling the trigger. The gun responded, its barrel spitting out a lick of flame and a staccato BRRAAP of noise as it did what it was designed to do: be an instrument of death.


Time seemed to move at half-speed for Shining. He saw the movement of the suspect’s barrel and knew that he’d be in the line of fire, with no way of making it out of there. Instincts seemed to kick in and Shining felt himself moving to the side, jumping to the right as he pulled the trigger on his gun twice, feeling the kick of the rounds leave the carbine and head forward.

He heard – practically felt – the rounds from his attacker’s gun burn in the space where he was just a split-second before. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of the anime that he was fond of watching and instead of coming to a precision stop, he felt his foot slip as he tried to regain his balance, sending him towards the ground, only able to watch as his enemy staggered back from his shot. Despite the fact that it was clear that the assailant been wearing body armor, dark blossoms appeared on his shirt as the man fell to the ground like a sundered Jenga tower.

As time finally moved into normal motion, Shining felt the firearm bounce out of his hands upon impact with the ground, skittering away and sliding out of reach. Instinctively, he got up, reaching for his pistol as Takedown covered him; he felt the adrenaline kick in as he was now in a firefight. But it wasn’t necessary; his rounds had struck true.

“Wow, armor piercing rounds,” Takedown said as he offered Shining a hand up.

“Shouldn’t you be covering me instead of giving me a hand up?” Shining said, practically lampshading the issue.

“Naah; you took his ass down but good,” Takedown said with a shrug. “But what the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t know, but I want answers,” Shining said, marching over to his would-be assailant.

He found the man, gurgling in a desperate attempt to breathe, glaring at Shining with eyes of hate. “You fucking little kid,” he spat. “Fucking lucky shot.”

“Talk,” Shining ordered. “What the fuck is going on here?”

The man ignored him. “Lucky fucking shot. Managed to get through all the bitches and all the world shooting at my ass and I get cut down by—” Another desperate gasp of breath, “—some Sheriff Woody wannabe.”

“Call an ambulance,” Shining told Takedown, but he knew it was too late. This was the only chance he had was to get the perp to spill some – any – information. “Now talk.”

Blackthorn, however, didn’t seem to hear him. “I… I was going to fuck her ‘til she sang like a canary,” he murmured. “Oh, I was going to fuck her good. Call her my Lusty Lesti. I can tell she works out – probably best fuck a guy could ever get.”

“Losing him,” Takedown said.

“TALK!” Shining roared, as a large explosion erupted several hundred feet to his right. Both he and Takedown looked at the fireball in complete shock, the blast wave thankfully muted by the treeline. Shining immediately turned back to the man. “What the fuck is going on here?”

But Blackthorn was too far gone by that point. “Gonna dick her ‘til she marries me,” he slurred to no one and everyone. “Then gonna get married, have kids and grow old with her. Just me and my pastel-haired sweetie. Grow old and diii—” His words cut off to a death rattle, and then all Blackthorn did was stare into eternity.

Shining screamed in anger and frustration and futility, before turning and walking away, back towards where he’d left the others.

“What do we do now?” Takedown asked, but Shining just ignored him and continued walking, a scowl on his face.

Two hours to the west, a small campground overlooked Horseshoe Bay. The campground was currently off-limits due to the presence of Hurricane Everblue, but neither the park rangers nor anyone else in authority had bothered to check to see if anyone was there, much less the green Jeep Liberty that was parked under a copse of trees, just off the road.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Lavender Lace took a drag from a joint, and blew it out. “Fuck this shit. Parents don’t give a fuck about me, think I deserve to be grounded for picking a fight. Yeah, right, stupid bitch; should just slap her silly for that shit, but my old man would be fucking pissed. Eh, don’t matter, not like she’s my real mom anyway.” She took another toke, then passed it over to her girlfriend. “But I guess that’s what Dad gets for fucking his secretary – she might’ve had a body, but she’s got no brains.”

Fuchsia Blush took the joint and smoked it. “You know, at least your Dad cares about you. I have to live with my grandparents because my mom died in a car accident and my dad offed himself.”

“Yeah, but at least your grandparents trust you. My old man would have kept me at home if I didn’t tell him I was staying out of town at a friend’s house to avoid the storm.” She laughed. “Fuck, like he’d give a shit if I died. Probably just put a bun in my stepmom’s oven and call it that.” She pushed strands of her blonde hair out of her eyes as she said, “Still, yeah, at least he took me in. Mom moved to Florida and hasn’t given a fuckall about me since.” She tapped the seatback lever to the side of her driver’s seat and stared at the ceiling of the car. “Neither of my parents give a fuck about me. Ain’t that a joke.”

Fuchsia set the joint down in the ashtray and looked at her girlfriend. “Hey, I give a fuck about you.” She leaned over and kissed Lavender, the magenta of her bangs seeming to intertwine with her girlfriend’s blonde locks. “And I’m always going to be here for you.”

“You know, your grandparents are going to shit bricks if they ever find out you’re a lesbo.”

“Yeah, but they’ll deal. And if your parents ever kick you out, I’m sure they’d let you move in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Fuchsia took another drag of the joint, then leaned forward and kissed Lavender again, blowing some of the smoke into her mouth. “Now, c’mon, I got an itch that needs to be scratched.”

“Oh?”

Fuchsia pulled off her t-shirt, then started unbuttoning Lavender’s own. “Yeah. And I brought the toys, too. We’re still here for a few more days until they reopen the park, so until then, this is just our little world, Lav. Just you and me and paradise.”

Lavender needed no prodding, leaning forward and kissing her girlfriend on the neck, her hands moving and probing as passion took them both, never knowing that three unnatural pairs of eyes watched, looking for the perfect moment to strike.

Divine cocked his head slightly; it was time. Getting up from his desk, he took a final quaff from his wine goblet, and with a simple incantation, teleported away with a flash of purple magic.

A second later, he appeared atop the summit of Mt. Shasta. Even in the summer weather, it was high enough to be cold, so he cast an additional warmth spell, then summoned a decent windbreaker to add to his warmth. He was sure that there were going to be others atop the summit, ready to take a picture of the historic Hurricane Everblue, the first Category 5 storm that had managed to make it this far inland without breaking apart, and he couldn’t allow them to see what happened next.

Snapping his fingers, he summoned his grimoire, looking over the spells in the moonlight for the perfect one. A second later he banished it, and a second after that, he snapped his fingers, releasing a spell.

Five hundred yards away, an award-winning photojournalist in perfect health suddenly had an epiphany about his career. He left the mountain, deciding that he wanted to chase his dreams about being a professional skydiver.

Three hundred yards in the opposite direction, a CNN reporter and her cameraman finally admitted how they felt about each other and with a passionate kiss, departed the mountain. They would be found three days later in Reno at a quick-wedding chapel.

Flying above in a rented prop airplane, its pilot, a man who reported for the New York Times suddenly had engine trouble. Angry that it meant he could potentially lose control as he got closer to the storm, he winged his way back towards Oregon, pissed to have missed out on the story of a lifetime.

Divine used his magic to feel out and make sure there were none that he missed. Killing any of them would have been child’s play, but probably would have brought too many questions at such a critical juncture. Fortunately, a prince knew the softer arts just as well as the harder, and where violence couldn’t solve things, subterfuge did – all he did was reach into the minds of those in the area and give them what they wanted most, or in the case of the pilot, what he feared most.

When he was sure there were no other potential problems and snoopers around, he summoned the Bell, throwing it into the air, where it floated a mile above the mountain. With that done, he called to the hurricane, beckoning it to come. The storm answered his call, moving forward with an freakish speed across the trees and the mountainside, like a lover crawling across silken sheets and pillows, hungry and insatiable. With a motion that could only be called unnatural, the hurricane enveloped Mt. Shasta, becoming a wall of rain and wind, howling and screeching as Divine stood in the center of it, directing its energies skywards, towards the bell.

Finally, the hurricane exploded, sending torrents of water in every direction, as a gash of blood red energy soared into the sky, hitting the bell. The bell absorbed the force, turning bright red, then burning white, almost as if it intended to replace the moon and the sun itself with its intensity.

Then the bell sang out, pealing with an unnatural tone, sounding strong enough that the whole world could hear it, if only they knew what to listen out for.

Divine laughed. Soon, the world would be his. It was, after all, his divine right.

A giant gong rang in Sunset’s ears, making her sit up. The first thing she could feel was the intense ringing, as if it ripped through her. The second thing she could feel was the dark energy burning in the air.

What the hell? she thought. She immediately got up, planning to investigate, but then…

“Sunny?” Twilight stirred next to her, then sat up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?” the plum-haired scholar asked.

“The….” Sunset realized that whatever she’d heard, it was clearly magic-based, and that meant that only she could hear it. Maybe her friends also did, but now was not the time to ask. Now was the time to comfort her sister, who was clearly worried about her in a situation that was already natural.

“I…I guess my ears are ringing. Let me get some Advil and water and I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“No, let me take care of that, sis,” Twilight insisted, walking over to Sunset’s desk, where bottles of the needed stuff had already been placed. Sunset would have to sit this one out for the moment, but as soon as she had the chance, she would investigate. With that much dark power, there was no way she could ignore that.

But for now, as much as she wasn’t comfortable, there was sleep to be had, right next to her sister. That, at least, she could deal with, Sunset thought to herself as she accepted the medicine and water from Twilight.

In her destroyed bedroom, a raven-haired girl removed her hands from her pants; they were sticky and wet and she loved every moment of it. She’d felt the raging power in the air, the dark majesty and it turned her on. If she could somehow harness that power, she could break and bend everyone in this house and then the world beyond. That thought made her feel creamy-thighed, so she dealt with her need.

And now, she stood, feeling sated for the moment, wishing she’d had a little plum-haired playmate to make things perfect. Unfortunately, she was in the bedroom two doors down with that bacon-haired cunt, and the frigid bitches sleeping outside her door at the moment weren’t going to let her have her fun.

Still, only a matter of time, Melody thought. Now, if she could only get the bitch screaming within her mind to stop – to kill Octavia, once and for all – then she could have all the fun and more.